


Where We Belong: Epilogue

by thecheekydragon



Series: Where We Belong [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek and Stiles are parents, Epilogue, M/M, POV Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecheekydragon/pseuds/thecheekydragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is so not ready for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where We Belong: Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue to [Where We Belong](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1078974). Can be read on its own, though.
> 
> Went with Derek's POV this time.

“Ugh! You’re so unfair!” came the grumbling accusation, punctuated dramatically by the slamming of the bedroom door.

Derek sighed, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends a little to vent his frustration. He stared hard at the closed door for a full minute before trudging downstairs, intending to seek comfort with a bag of Jumpin’ Jack Doritos and some trashy reality TV because, unfortunately, they were out of wolfsbane-laced scotch.

He met Stiles at the landing in the foyer, still in his deputy’s uniform, having just come home from work. He raised an eyebrow at Derek.

“Have you been tugging at your hair again?” Stiles asked, giving Derek’s hair an assessing look.

“She hates me,” Derek said despondently.

“She does not hate you,” Stiles told him, shrugging out of the brown uniform jacket. He hung it on the peg near the door.

“She never gives you a hard time like this,” Derek grumbled. 

“That’s because I’m the fun dad,” Stiles said with a grin. 

Derek snorted. “So. You’re telling me you’re _okay_ with Lucy wanting to date this boy?”

“Hell no!” Stiles expressed, going into the kitchen to rummage in the fridge for whatever leftovers he could find. “I’d rather Lucy not date at all until she’s _thirty_. But, hey, since I’m only twenty-six, and we’ve been having sex for almost ten years now, I haven’t got much of an argument.”

Derek’s eye started to twitch at Stiles’ mention of ‘sex’. He pressed fingers into the socket to still it. He was never going to survive Lucy’s teenage years, Derek thought. Not with boys and dating and – God forbid – _sex_.

“Why does it have to be _him_?” Derek wanted to know. 

“It’s like the Montagues and Capulets, the Hatfields and McCoys,” Stiles said, shoving two slices of deli lunchmeat into his mouth. “The Stilinski-Hales and the—what’s Ben’s last name again?”

Derek huffed. “Can you be serious for a minute here?” he said. “Our sixteen year old werewolf daughter wants to date a _boy_.” 

“That’s what sixteen year old girls do, Derek,” Stiles said around a mouthful of deli meat. “They crush on boys and go on dates and have--”

“I swear to God, Stiles, if you say _have sex_ , I will punch you in the face.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. At this stage in their relationship (and even before), he was immune to Derek’s threats, which were pretty much empty where Stiles was concerned. “I was going to say _have fun_ , you leap-to-conclusions sourwolf,” he said, pulling out the bag of Doritos from the pantry. 

Derek crossed his arms against his chest and scowled. He was not ready for this.

Stiles put cheesy fingers on Derek’s arm and gave him a fond pat. “Don’t get your werewolf boxers all in a bunch,” he said, his mouth full of the flavored tortillas. “We got this, Der,” Stiles insisted. “We totally got this.”

**

Derek did not have this. And gauging by the direction Stiles was currently headed in the conversation with their teenaged daughter, Derek wasn’t so sure Stiles had it either. 

“I’m sure he won’t mind if I set my gun down on the coffee table while we have a nice little chat,” Stiles was saying.

Lucy rolled her eyes. Derek couldn’t blame her. 

“Hey,” Stiles was quick to defend. “It’s the trick your grandpa always used with me.”

Lucy snorted. “Yeah. _That_ sure worked well as a deterrent, didn’t it?” she replied, giving Derek a pointed look. 

Stiles raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. “Derek, have you been teaching our daughter new words again?” 

Derek ignored Stiles and flashed red eyes at the teenaged girl. 

“Oh my _god_ , Dad,” Lucy said, huffing with exasperation.

They say that environment counts for a heck of a lot when raising a child. Derek had to agree. Lucy was sometimes so much like Stiles that Derek had to remind himself that they were not actually biologically related. 

“No gun,” Lucy said, pointing a finger at Stiles. She now pointed it at Derek. “And no alpha eyes.” She sighed dramatically, a trait Stiles insisted she had picked up from Derek. “I’m a werewolf,” she reminded them. “If he tries anything, I’ll kick his ass.”

Derek couldn’t help himself. “Stiles, have you been teaching our daughter to swear again?”

Stiles stuck his tongue out at Derek, making Lucy laugh. It was like living with two children sometimes, Derek thought with exasperation. Except one of those children was responsible for protecting the citizens of Beacon Hill and got to carry a gun. 

He was so not ready for this. 

**

Stiles peeked his head around the bedroom door at Derek, who was sitting on the edge of their bed, quietly preparing for the soon-to-be-happening meeting with the boy who was taking their daughter out on a – Derek shuddered - date. 

“Are you hiding?” Stiles asked, coming into the room.

“Maybe?” Derek replied stubbornly. 

Stiles sat down on the bed next to him. “Need a bag?”

Derek scrunched his eyebrows together. “For what?”

“To stave off hyperventilation,” Stiles said, knocking his shoulder against Derek’s. “Or, you know, to bury a body or whatever.”

The corner of Derek’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “Werewolves don’t hyperventilate,” he said. 

“Wouldn’t hurt to blow in a bag just in case,” Stiles told him.

“I’d rather blow you,” Derek said coyly.

Stiles’ pupils widened lustfully. “And normally I’d be totally down with that,” he said. “But we’ve got to be responsible parents and meet this boy before he takes our little girl out.”

Derek sighed. Stiles was right. He had to bite the metaphorical wolfsbane bullet and do this. 

“And if you’re a good little werewolf and keep the fangs and claws tucked in, I’ll let you blow me later,” Stiles whisper-promised as he led Derek down the stairs to the inevitable.

**

Of course, the kid would be punctual. Derek couldn’t even catch a break so that he could glare daggers at the boy for being late.

“Derek, stop growling and let the kid in,” Stiles said from behind him.

Derek opened the door a few inches wider, gesturing at the teenaged boy standing awkwardly on their doorstep with sufficient vagueness so that the gesture could be interpreted as ‘come on in’ or ‘make a wrong move and I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth’. 

The four of them settled in the family room, Lucy and Ben on the couch, Derek in the recliner with Stiles perched on the arm. Nervous and assessing glances were cast around but nobody said anything.

“So,” Lucy said, breaking the silence. “These are my dads.”

Another thirty seconds of silence. (Frankly, Derek was surprised. Stiles usually couldn’t go more than five seconds without saying something. This was a record worth noting.)

“So, Ben,” Stiles finally ventured. “How’s your mother?”

“Uh, she’s good, sir,” Ben replied cautiously. 

“Dude,” Stiles said. “I’m twenty-six and I’m not in uniform right now.” He nodded his head toward Derek. “Call _him_ sir.”

Derek and Lucy rolled their eyes in unison. 

“And speaking of uniforms,” Stiles continued, leaning forward from his perch. “You know I’m legally allowed to carry a gun, right?”

“Stiles!”

“Tata!”

“What?” Stiles said, giving them his patented mock-innocent look. 

For the sake of Lucy and his sanity, Derek decided to take control of the conversation. Which was saying something because Derek was not exactly the most verbal of people (or werewolves) on a good day. He asked Ben a number of questions and politely kept his claws and fangs tucked in. 

It wasn’t until they were at the door, sending Lucy off with Ben on their date (they were going to the movies and Derek had made Lucy promise to text when they got to the theater and then when the movie was over), that he caught Stiles’ sly grin and wink and realized the little schemer had played him. It had been Stiles’ plan for Derek to take the lead in interrogating Ben because he knew it would make Derek, as alpha and as Lucy’s dad, feel more comfortable with this whole dating thing. Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles but then quirked his lips up in an answering grin. 

“Don’t forget to text,” Stiles reminded Lucy as she followed Ben out the door.

And then their little girl was gone.

Derek let out a heavy sigh. 

The door opened two seconds later, however, and Lucy rushed back in, launching herself at Stiles and Derek, hugging them tightly.

“I love you guys,” she gushed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles said fondly. 

Derek swallowed the lump in his throat. “Love you too, Lucy-girl.”

Lucy gave them a big smile then skipped back out the door.

He could feel Stiles looking at him. 

“What.”

“Is that a tear, big guy?” Stiles asked, teasing. “Oh my god, are you _crying_ , Derek?”

“No.”

“Really. ‘Cause it looks like you’re crying,” Stiles persisted.

Derek gave Stiles a look. “Do you want me to make _you_ cry?”

Stiles’ grin was wicked. “Only if you promise not to bite. Oh wait. I like it when you bite.”

Derek shook his head, chuckling. “I believe you said something about letting me blow you if I was – I quote - ‘a good little werewolf’?”

Stiles moved in closer and brushed his lips across Derek’s. “I may have said something like that,” he conceded, now mouthing at Derek’s neck. 

Derek hefted Stiles up into his arms and began climbing the stairs.

“You got your cell phone, right?” Stiles asked. 

“On and waiting for her text,” Derek murmured against Stiles’ collarbone.

“See? We _are_ responsible parents,” Stiles said.

Yes, Derek thought contently, as he carried Stiles down the hall to their bedroom. Yes, they were.

**


End file.
